


upon my liar's chair

by grotesk__burlesk



Series: i will make you hurt [1]
Category: That '70s Show
Genre: Forman is a Worrier, Hyde is a Liar, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Internalized Homophobia, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, NOT EXPLICITLY ROMANTIC, Period-Typical Homophobia, Possibly Unrequited Love, Pre-Slash, References to Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, based on a dialogue prompt, references to mental illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-23 22:59:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17089358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grotesk__burlesk/pseuds/grotesk__burlesk
Summary: “You’d tell me if something was going on?” Forman questioned, brow raised as if to show he was on to him.“‘Course, man,” Steven lied, staring at passing traffic again.





	upon my liar's chair

**Author's Note:**

> Set some time around season four, probably. 
> 
> So, there is an underwhelming amount of Hyde/Forman fics on here, and I had the urged to write so I banged this out. Inspired by a dialogue prompt I found from coffin-prompts on tumblr, which is bolded. It's my first fic for this pairing, but they're one of my favorites so I'll probably end up doing some more. Non-beta, by the way, so all mistakes are totally mine.
> 
> Title is from Hurt by Nine Inch Nails, because it fits. May not be '70s, but Hyde totally woulda been a NIN fan if the show took place in the '90s instead. 
> 
> Lemme know what you guys think, or if you want me to continue this rather than leave it as a one-shot.

**“Staring is a nasty habit,”** Forman chastised. His hypocrisy clearly knew no bounds, given that his own gaze was focused solely on Hyde. Granted, the Hub was practically empty since it was the middle of a school day that they decided to ditch, and they were at the same table so it wasn’t like he was staring  _ at  _ Hyde, there just wasn’t anything else to look at. Right? Well, other than whatever it was that Hyde was staring at through the glass door but that was out of his eyesight.

**“Is it now?”** Hyde’s eyes snapped up to meet Forman’s almost instantly.  **“Guess I was never taught better.”** There was an edge to his voice that wasn’t quite clear. With those sunglasses obscuring his eyes, it was hard to make out whether Hyde was pissed off or depressed. Eric had seen him in almost any mood possible, but he’d become good at masking them over the years. Regardless of whatever way his best friend was feeling, Eric suddenly felt as if he shouldn’t have said anything. Hyde  _ wasn’t  _ taught better, with Edna for a mother and all, and he knew that. Besides, Hyde was probably the most socially couth one out of the whole gang, just because he observed more than he acted, so it wasn’t like he needed to be scolded over something so trivial. It suddenly dawned on him that Hyde wasn’t staring, he was observing and Forman swallowed a mouthful of pop so forcefully that it almost hurt to try to choke down the shittiness that he felt. 

Hyde had been off lately, something clearly weighing on his shoulders. At first, Eric hadn’t noticed since he was too caught up in his own mind, dealing with the breakup. It’d been a few months since The Ring Incident, as he was choosing to call it. It was still hard to say that Donna had broken up with him and that he deserved it. Truthfully, he wasn’t even sure why he tried to push that ring on her. He didn’t see her in his future all the time either. The only explanation for his actions was much like the one he had for calling Steven out: he was such a fucking hypocrite. Maybe it was some sort of sick way of coping with the things he wasn’t comfortable with, like not wanting to be with the girl he had tried to promise forever to, or that the only person he could picture being around ten years from now was the guy sitting across the table from him. He and Hyde were always there for each other. Hell, even when they were pissed at each other, they still had each other’s six. “What’s going on with you, Hyde?” Forman asked, hoping that the casual, curious tone he was aiming for actually worked. If Hyde knew that he was concerned--no,  _ worried _ \--he’d never get a straight answer out of him without prying for days on end. That’s how it had been when Edna split.

The question was met with something that sounded like a scoff and the sound of ice as Hyde twirled whatever was left of his pop in its cup. “Nothin’, man,” he answered. He hoped it didn’t sound like a lie. He hated it when Forman worried about him. And Forman was always worried. 

_                 Hyde, what’s with all the beer cans in your room? It isn’t even noon yet. _

_                You should quit smoking, cigarettes will kill you and before they do, Red will.  _

_               You aren’t sleeping, are you? _

Hyde fucking hated it. It made him feel like shit, and he felt like that enough on his own. Mostly, he hated knowing that it was because Eric cared. Best friends weren’t supposed to lie to each other, but it seemed like the only way that he could keep things normal between them. “Jus’ thought I saw someone I knew ‘s all,” he added dismissively.

There was no fucking way he was about to admit that he was watching cars pass by on the road just out of Eric’s line of sight and wishing he could wrap one around a tree. It wasn’t that Hyde actively wanted to kill himself. That wasn’t the case at all. He just figured it’d be an easy way out if things ever turned too far south too fast.

Hyde never pictured too much of a future for himself. That’s why he thought Career Days were stupid and that it didn’t matter if he got lung cancer from smoking too many cigarettes. Whatever future he did imagine though, he always saw Forman there. Wherever they were, whatever they were doing. It was always Eric. The same Eric that laughed at shitty jokes and played with G.I. Joes and wanted to learn the ways of the Jedi. His Eric. It always made him feel a bit sick to his stomach because he knew that he shouldn’t think of his friend that way. He fucking knew. But at the same time, he couldn’t bring himself to stop because it dulled the pain of whatever present he was dealing with at the time. Hoping that he’d always have Forman to fall back on made living a bit easier.

Eric wasn’t so sure, but he knew how Hyde got when he pushed it. “Alright,” he accepted with a feigned casualty and a shrug. Hyde’s Zen bullshit or whatever made it so hard to read him. It drove him crazy that he couldn’t always tell what was going on underneath all those curls. “You’d tell me if something was going on?” Forman questioned, brow raised as if to show he was on to him. 

“‘Course, man,” Steven lied, staring at passing traffic again.


End file.
